Hey beautiful
by potterbite
Summary: 30 day otp challenge, with (of course) Captain Swan. I'm not going to be able to do 30 days in a row, but I will do them all. Some will be longer, some shorter :) Rated M just to be on the safe side!
1. Day 1 - Holding hands

**Day 1. Holding hands**

* * *

There's a quiet huff of surprise coming from him as she lets her fingers intertwine with his, but she decides to ignore it even as her heart pounds harder and harder against her chest to the point where she is sure it will jump out.

Truth be told, she is not the hand holding type, and she always thought that couples did it to let the rest of the world know that they were together, and why would that even be necessary? Isn't it enough for just the two of them to know, she would think when she passed them on the streets of Boston, New York or wherever the hell she was that month.

But then there _he_ is, and she's feeling things she doesn't ever remember feeling before – a constant movement of _something_ in her stomach, a prickling sensation against her skin when he looks at her, an itch on the tips of her fingers with a need to touch, to be close, to _feel_.

This morning she had woken up to find the itch had gone. Feeling lighter in a way she hadn't done in forever, she had looked down and seen their joined hands resting lightly just below her navel; she had taken a deep breath, relief over something she hadn't known was troubling her washing through her.

So here she is, walking towards Granny's, Killian right next to her with his hand safely zigzagged around hers and she finally understands why people do it, how it's not a way to parade for the world but rather a way to make it easier to breathe - that's how it works for Emma anyway. A non-existing pain diminishing, an empty hole in her chest filling, contentment and calmness she wouldn't be able to explain in words. Everything becomes _easier_.

She can sense the huge grin he's giving her without looking at him.

"Shut up," she says, trying to frown as her lips turn upwards against her will.

(Not against any particular strong will, though).

"What?" he asks, and she looks at him; he's giving her his best innocent puppy look. "I'm allowed to be happy, aren't I?"

"You're not happy, you're grinning _at_ me."

He shrugs, and their joined hands follow up and then down again softly, but neither of them lets go, only clings a bit harder. "I can do both."

The way he says it is so simple, telling her that, yes, he's happy, and she smiles at him.

"I can do both, too," she says with a squeeze of her hand.

He looks at her in the way that makes her pulse go up way more than it should, before squeezing back and pushing the door to Granny's open with his side. "Good."


	2. Day 2 - Cuddling

**Day 2. Cuddling**

* * *

As she crosses the line from sleep to somewhat consciousness, she realizes that the beeping sound surrounding her _isn't_from a bomb that will end the entire world. No, it's just her extremely annoying alarm clock, which she, evidently, currently hates more than anything else in the entire world.

Killian starts moving next to her, and she smashes her hand over the clock to make it quiet, but it doesn't work. She slams even harder and the beeping increases in volume; Killian groans where he's snuggled himself next to her, face pressed against her throat so that she feels the warm air from his breathing.

"Make it stop," he whines pathetically. "'s too early."

She turns her head to grin into his hair, taking a deep breath and tuning out the noise until it's no more than background static in her very own happy place; where she goes when she needs to calm down and not yell at Mrs. Potts for putting out her garbage a day early, where her breathing turns more even on a stressful day, and what she thinks of when she's on the verge of crying on a crappy day.

It's simple really. For someone like Emma, cuddling – being _that_close to someone – has never really been an option. A pat on the shoulder, or a ruffling hand through her hair was supposed to comfort her when she grew up, and in a way it did. But it also made her walls grow taller, thinking it would be unwise to let someone see her when she was at her most vulnerable state, making cuddle a word that practically made her shudder.

But with him it's natural. She reaches for him in the dark when he climbs into bed after her; stretches an arm to touch him when she's sleeping; turns around in the mornings to whisper '_good morning_' with her lips against his.

Maybe for someone else, it wouldn't make sense for his embrace to make her feel so much, so safe. But to her, that doesn't matter. All that does matter is the small sigh of relief she hears from him when she curls her arms around his neck before going to sleep, or the soft way he whispers his name when he dreams, or the comforting even beat of his heart against her own.

_They are happy_.

Except for this very moment, which she quickly returns to when he grumbles again and tries to reach past her toward the clock.

She glances at the open window right next to their bed, and thinks, _what the hell_, before grabbing the alarm clock and throwing it out through the gap – she cheers when it glides through smoothly, and Killian chuckles against her throat before pressing a light kiss in the same spot.

"I'll fetch you a dozen new ones." He tightens his grip around her waist. "Later."

"Later," she agrees and snuggles closer to him. She shudders as he presses another kiss against her throat, and drifts back to sleep. Work, what work?


	3. Day 3 - Gaming

**Day 3. Gaming**

* * *

"Bloody hell!" he mutters at the television, his hand tightening its grip around the controller; his knuckles turn white and Emma can't help but snicker.

"Didn't take you for a sore loser." She cocks her head at him, a challenge in her eyes, and meets his grin with one of her own, equally wide. He tries again, and this time the avatar actually shoots the bowling ball in the right lane and six pins topples – he cheers at himself shamelessly, while Emma thinks, I can do way better than that. She takes the controller from his hand, wraps her fingers around it and goes to stand in front of the TV as Killian sits down in the couch behind her.

"You know," she starts, stretching her neck to face him. "This is how it's really done." She turns back to the game, snickering at her own remark as she tells the avatar she is ready - and doesn't have time to react before he is right there, body not quite touching hers but close enough for her to feel his heartbeat against her back and his warm breath on her ear. She shivers, and her avatar drops the ball right on the spot.

He grins proudly. "Great job, love."

"Oh, if that's how you want to play it," she says, dragging up the sleeves of her sweatshirt to her elbows. "It's game on."

On her next shot, she makes sure he's in no way near her and manages to get eight of the pins.

He groans quietly, before accepting the controller from her with a very small pout - it's hardly noticeable by anyone else but she sees it as clear as daylight, and feels somewhat proud that she managed to get Captain Hook himself to pout.

When he has his back towards her, she stands up to move closer.

"You won't be able to distract me, love," he says easily when she is right next to him. "I've had many years practice to steer a ship in the midst of a storm. Nothing can distract me, I assure you."

"Oh, but you've never been distracted by _me_," she retorts with a sly grin, and he laughs.

"Aye." He nudges her once on the nose with his finger. "Shall I play then?"

"By all means." She reaches out her arms in a gesture to tell him to go ahead, and he starts his round.

When he is mere seconds from throwing the ball, she reaches forward - careful not to touch him anywhere else - and presses a light kiss at the hollow beneath his ear; he shudders, and the bowling ball falls to the animated floor on the television.

He turns his face to her and raises an eyebrow. "You cheated."

She shakes her head, smiling innocently. "We never stated the rules." When he frowns, she smacks him lightly on the chest. "Oh, come on, you're just upset you didn't get to cheat first."

He shrugs, but doesn't deny her statement, even though he does give her a lopsided smile. "Two out of three?"

She takes a step back from him to get a better look before crossing her arms across her chest and narrowing her eyes at him. "What does the winner get?"

He wiggles his eyebrows and points in the direction of their bedroom.

She laughs, because how can she not? "Oh, okay. And the loser then?"

He takes a step towards her and wraps his bad arm around her waist, pulling her closer for a lazy kiss, their lips moving from years of habit; he doesn't move away after, their lips still almost touching. "I'm not sure there are any losers here."

She lets their lips touch again, before she presses a finger right onto the spot where he is the most ticklish. He squirms away quickly.

Sure, he was telling the truth in a way, but she's not stupid.

"Nice try, mister I-hate-to-lose-so-I-try-to-trick-my-girlfriend." She cocks an eyebrow at him, and he shakes his head in defeat.

"Worth a shot, aye?"

"Sure it was," she teases. Suddenly, she gets an idea, which is probably the most perfect idea she has ever had, which is saying something since she more often than not is rather proud of her own ideas. "Care to try a different game?" He watches her suspiciously, so she clarifies. "Something you're used to."

"I'm intrigued," he teases back, catches a strand of her hair between her fingers as he speaks.

"Poker."

He continues to fiddle with her hair, clearly not impressed. "Love, I'm a pirate. Any and all card games puts me at an unfair advantage and - "

"_Strip_ poker," she says as if she is repeating herself, and gets the pleasure of watching him drop her hair as a smirk spreads across his face.

"It's on."


	4. Day 4 - On a date

**Day 4. On a date**

* * *

Emma gave herself an onceover as she passed the hallway mirror – very pleased with the results – and sprang for the door. She wasn't nervous, no, but filled with anticipation, her whole body almost on edge, fingers tingling to touch his face, eyes yearning to see him smile at her, making her stomach do a flip-flop.

Slowly, she opened the door – consciously forcing herself to relax, to savor the evening, and remember every single detail – but missed the facial expression he got when he saw her (which was something she'd very much looked forward to when she got ready) because all she saw was _him_.

He'd changed clothes for her.

Okay, he still had a leather jacket, but it was a modern one that ended on his hips and looked worn out in all the right places, and he wore dark jeans that had a similar fitting to his old pants, and a shirt, barely buttoned.

She probably would've melted right then and there to a puddle on the floor if he hadn't swooped in for a breathy kiss, filled with promises as their lips melted together; she bit down once on his lower lip and when he groaned it was all the invitation she needed. She dragged him inside the apartment, closed the door behind him and pressed him up against the door as hard as she could – which, sure, as strong as she was, it wasn't enough to keep him in place, even when she pressed their hips together and something close to purring came from his throat.

He broke the kiss and chuckled breathily against her lips, skimming his thumb along her face. "I thought we were having dinner."

She nipped at his bottom lip again, and kissed him once, twice. "We can do that later."

"Your self-control is dreadful, Emma." Her heart skipped a beat at the use of her name, the way he said it almost like a prayer, and when he grinned, and took her hand to lead her out of the apartment she easily followed him, but sighed as they started to head down the stairs.

"And you have excellent."

He looked at her over his shoulder as the stairs turned. "No." He waited for her to get to the same step as him, and dove in for yet another kiss. "But we need food if we are going to enjoy other _activities_."

She laughed, and sure, he had a point, but she still jokingly said, "Excuse me for trying to appreciate your new wardrobe to the fullest."

"Ditto," he agreed, licking his lips in an unconscious gesture that made Emma want to - Scream? Laugh? Press him up against the wall for a quickie? All of the above? She wasn't sure.

She hauled him outside, still laughing, before she could regret it, and headed for the restaurant.

(They did manage to get through dinner – and _enjoyed_ it – but skipped desert without having to ask each other, and left with their limbs tangled, lips frantic).

(Later, they ate ice-cream in bed while Killian told stories of his youth that made Emma laugh – _and love_).


	5. Day 5 - Kissing

**Day 5. Kissing**

* * *

She presses soft kisses to his back just where the shoulder blades meet when she's curled up behind him, about to go to sleep. It feels natural to do it, an urge to try to make him feel how _happy_ he makes her when she can't be sure how to put it in words.

* / *

He lets his lips easily trail on her neck when he wakes up in the middle of the night, just checking to see if she's still there, touching not quite enough to make sure it's not just some elaborate dream where he gets to be _oh so_ _happy_.

* / *

She snuggles closer when they're watching a movie – a phenomenon he is very fascinated by – to kiss the fabric on top of his chest. He grumbles something about _a very important scene_, but she lets her hand go lower to rest just below his navel and can hear his heart speed up when she places her head at the spot where her lips just touched him. So she smiles to herself, and feeds on the every emotion she's having, enough to last a lifetime. He drags a hand through her hair in even strokes, and laughs quietly at Peter Quill dancing to Blue Swede´s Hooked on a feeling. She joins him, and lets her lips touch his chest again.

Feeling_ content_.

* / *

He wakes up to an empty bed, but knows that it's Saturday, which means pancake breakfast. It's one of his favorites dishes he has tasted since he left the Enchanted forest, and he's always astounded by how simple it is to make, so few ingredients making something so delicious.

He can hear her humming along to some silly song on the radio where a man and a woman sings about _feeling this moment_, and there's a smell of cooking seeping its way through the closed bedroom door.

He finds his pants – called pajama pants, and made from some material crafted by what he can only assume is an angel – and slips into them before heading out to the kitchen. As suspected, he finds her there, tossing her head and hair from side to side at the same beat of the music as the refrain of the song starts, and he savors the moment as much as he can.

When she notices him standing there she asks him to join her with a laugh – which he declines – and tells him it's almost finished.

He comes up behind her and wraps his arms around her, his hand stroking her stomach, and kisses the back of her head, amazed by how a very simple everyday life with the love of your life can make you feel so complete, so –

_Content_.

* / *

She moans when he finally enters her, his hand – his fingers – quickly joining the rapid pace as he hovers above her on the elbow of his bad arm. She won't last long, but she doubts he will either.

He tells her to open her eyes, and when she does she finds his gaze locked on her, and it's almost too much at once; in a haze she wonders if it is possible to implode from feeling _so much_ at one single moment. She stretches her neck and finds his lips with her own, bites down on his lower lip to make herself last just a little bit longer, never wanting it to end, and when he groans it travels all the way down to her toes. She falls over the edge shortly after, him joining her in a matter of seconds.

A few minutes later, when she turns her head to look at him where he's splayed out across the bed beside her, he's already watching her.

"I love you," he says in a breathy voice, sweat glistening on his forehead, and she can't recall ever hearing anything as beautiful before.

"I love you, too," she replies without hesitation.

* / *

Just a few years ago, he always imagined himself spending the rest of his days miserable on his ship at sea, never loving and being loved again; he's never been happier about being wrong.

He still misses the sea, especially when they have a fight and he needs somewhere to escape, but every time she grins at him at one of their own private little jokes, or when he gets to comb together their fingers just because he feels like it, or when she sighs his name, a silent prayer, during the nights, it all makes up for it.

Safe to say, he's surprised when she one day announces she's bought him a ship.

It's no Jolly Roger, but it is his own to do what he pleases with, and all he can think about is how he wants to take her out on it to show her the sea in a way only a pirate can.

His throat feels dry, and he has no words to describe how he loves her in a way he didn't think was possible – intensely, passionately, breathlessly – so he just steps closer to her and melts their lips together in what practically feels as essential as breathing these days. He inhales her scent, their lips parting, and feels as if he could do this for an eternity, never letting go of this marvelous woman he loves so much he thinks it might sometimes make him explode, and who miraculously enough loves him just as much.

They part, and she laughs against his lips. "I take it you like it."

Still without words, he only responds, "Aye."

She beams. "Good."


	6. Day 6 - Wearing each other

**Day 6. Wearing each other's clothes**

* * *

"This isn't – " Emma began before Henry cut her off with a wave of his hand. She was fidgeting with the buttons on the vest, but somehow they _just wouldn't button_, and the coat was ridiculously heavy. She needed alcohol, lots and lots of alcohol.

"Everyone will love it."

"I do look rather dashing in your pants, love," Killian said from the hallway where he was checking himself out in the mirror. And damn it, he could pull those pants off like no other man would be able to, and it did things to his ass she really shouldn't dwell on if they ever wanted to get to that damn party. The red leather jacket Henry had found for Killian was just icing on the cake as far as Emma was concerned; red was a really good color on him. Hell, he looked good in everything.

She tried to wiggle the pants some so they would be more comfortable, but the leather was just so God damn warm, and she could already feel the sweat on her forehead. Maybe if she could just lose the ridiculously large coat -

"But – "

"No buts, Mom," Henry simply said, and she had to force herself with every ounce of control she had to not say something along the lines of '_I see one butt_' with a wink over at Killian's ass _to her son_. That would've been inappropriate on so many different levels.

Instead, she sighed. "Okay, let's go have fun." _And drink massive amounts of alcohol_, she finished in her mind. She reached out a hand for Killian, and grinned, figured – why the hell not have an entertaining night at a silly masquerade with the one person she wanted to have next to her. "You ready, _miss_?"

He grinned back. "Aye. You too, Captain Swan?"

"Aye!" She saluted, and didn't have to turn her head to know that Henry and Killian rolled their eyes at her.

"Mom," Henry started in a groan. "That's what soldiers do, not pirates."

She just laughed, and dragged two of her favorite guys out of the apartment, and when someone catcalled after Killian on the street she realized that it would probably be one of the best nights of her life.


	7. Day 7 - Dreaming

**Day 7. Dreaming**

* * *

When Emma was still a little girl, she used to dream about a family coming to get her – _her_ family, and some nights she'd lie awake, wondering if the day would come soon, or when she would finally feel loved and have what she'd always craved; _a home_. Her heart would ache to the point of breaking at the thought of someone holding her in their arms just because they wanted to, because she _was_ cherished.

She sat staring in the direction of the big gates at the window by her bed days on end in the hopes that the Swans had made a mistake, and that they were coming back for her, laughing and asking her if she'd written any more stories about trolls and ogres since they last saw her, or maybe telling her about her new baby brother, which was why they had to send her away for a little while, of course.

She kept on waiting, each day yearning more and more, imagination stretching wider until there was nothing else she could think of – but the day never came, and so she stopped dreaming.

**  
In the year after her 28th birthday, she started dreaming again.

It began small, with her having dinner with her son, or just watching him playing some silly game or catching a movie together; it was the simplest things she'd always dreamed about having but never got.

Slowly, as she tried to accept that somehow the trolls she'd written about or the books she'd read growing up was real, her dreams shifted to include more people; her parents, and even friends.

When the second curse hit Storybrooke, she was convinced her heart would stop beating right then and there, breaking into a million pieces, because only her life would be ironic enough to have her be the one that had to leave them behind when her biggest fear had been _them_ abandoning _her._

In the year she had the memories given to her by Regina, she used to dream about a stranger. She traveled the world with this man, and relaxed so easily with him she woke up feeling – well, almost as if she had cheated on her boyfriend. Which was ridiculous, of course it was, but he kept coming back to her during the nights, and somehow she felt like she could conquer the world.

They progressed after that – friends becoming lovers, lovers becoming unserperable, kisses during the late hours of the night – and by the time she was back in Storybrooke again, she had already figured out what they meant.

(She wasn't stupid).

The night she finally took the leap she'd wanted to take for a while, she didn't dream, because somehow all she ever wanted growing up was no longer an imagination; friends, family, and even _him_.

A few months later, she dreamt about a very young version of herself; she was happy; she was at peace.


	8. Day 8 - Shopping

_a/n: um.. yes so this is not much centered around shopping but more daddy!killian. daddy!killian is gold_

* * *

**Day 8. Shopping**

* * *

Killian's favorite part of the week has always (at least since he and Emma moved in together a year ago) been to go grocery shopping, and Emma has never for the life of her been able to figure out why.

Not that she complains. Shopping for food is the least fun there is to do that is still allowed to be called shopping. (Eating what has been bought, now that's a whole different matter.)

One week, curiosity finally takes over and she asks if she can join him; he agrees, and the way he shines up at the question makes her regret not doing it sooner.

It's not until they're standing in the cereal aisle that she finally understands his fascination with grocery shopping.

"Killy!" a little girl, not much older than Roland, squeals as she comes running down the aisle, not stopping until she hits the firm wall of his legs. She wraps both her tiny arms around him and tilts her head up to smile with her whole face.

"Claire," he says fondly, and Emma's heart skips a beat.

Some time passes – to Emma it feels like seconds; she's drowning in the sight – and then Claire takes a step back, apparently done hugging. "You're late," she says accusingly, and Emma doesn't miss the way the young girl's eyes drift over to her. She tries to give a bright smile in return, but Claire looks away and back up at Killian.

"Not much," he replies, and pokes her in her stomach with a finger; she laughs and squirms away. "Claire, this is Emma," he continues, and wraps his bad arm around Emma's back. Claire clearly takes this as some sort of approval, because now she does give Emma a smile. It's not as wide and cheerful as the one she gets when she looks at Killian, but Emma is willing to take whatever she can at this point; this child is clearly someone Killian cares about, and somehow the only thing going around inside Emma's head is why he hasn't told her about it, and where the hell this girl's parents are.

Emma beams down at the kid nonetheless, because even if Claire hadn't been totally smitten by Killian (and he by her), she also happen to look like an angel sent down from heaven; light blonde hair more curly than anything Emma had ever seen before, skin as white as snow (no pun to her own mother intended) and eyes that looked like they could light up a whole city. "Hey, Claire."

The girl giggled. "Hello."

"Five minutes," Killian says then, and Emma frowns. It must be some code between him and Claire, because she nods eagerly and runs out of the store without looking back. Emma is left staring after her for a few seconds before she regains her ability to speak.

"Cute kid," she begins, not sure what she should say.

He turns his head in her direction and grins. "I agree."

"How – "

Killian covers his hand over her mouth, probably knowing what questions she's dying to ask. "Not here."

She raises an eyebrow slightly, but agrees. He then continues to shop groceries for the week as if nothing has happened, and Emma doesn't notice the extra things he's putting in their cart until they're paying. It is small things, very cheap; a candy cane, a blue ribbon for the hair and a little box of crayons that's meant to be used on asphalt and such things.

They carry it all outside in silence, and Emma almost drops both of the bags she's holding when the sound of a little girl hysterically laughing comes from behind.

It's Claire.

Killian laughs too, and gestures with his head for Claire to follow them to the car. When it's all loaded in the back, he picks up the three items Emma had noticed and turns to smile at Claire, hiding the gifts behind his back.

"I got you something today," he says and she starts jumping up and down on the spot, clearly not expecting this. Emma's confusion deepens.

"You did?!"

He takes out his arm and shows her what he got her; if the (very) loud shriek, the tears and the enormous grin is anything to go by, Emma would say it was the perfect gifts.

She says thank you more times than Emma can count and makes Emma help her put on the ribbon, before she and Killian proceed to talk about their week as if they have known each other forever, and Claire even includes Emma in the conversation; Claire leaves with another few more thank you's fifteen minutes later, skipping out of the parking lot while humming some song Emma doesn't recognize.

Later, as she and Killian are cooking dinner, he starts telling her about Claire.

It turns out that Claire is one of the kids from the orphanage on the outskirts of town and that the lady that runs it lets Claire head over to the market once a week for bread, which was how she and Killian had met six months earlier.

Apparently, he used to stick around after finishing his shopping to talk to her, which was all she wanted. (She craved company so bad it made Emma ache just to think about it, poor kid.) Today had also been the very first time he'd bought her anything, because he'd been afraid she would react badly.

She had lost both her parents in a car crash when she was still a baby, and were still young enough to have some hope left of finding a new family. She had been assigned one right after the car crash, but they had been forced to return her to the orphanage for financial reasons and Claire was yet again without a proper home. She was very cautious to strangers unless someone she trusted (like Killian) said they were okay, and she didn't much like talking about herself unless she had to, walls already up at such a young age.

Needless to say, it all strikes very close to home with Emma.

* * *

The next day, she goes over to the children's home so nervous she thinks she might throw up. She hasn't been to one of those since the left at 16 and never intended to go back either, until now apparently. She's spared, however, because Claire is outside on the sidewalk drawing with her new crayons on the ground, and Emma takes a giant relieved sigh.

When Claire hears Emma coming she turns around, and when she recognizes Emma from the day before she grins with her whole face, just like she had done for Killian.

"Hey, kid," Emma says with a smile and crouches down beside Claire. "What are you drawing?"

"Yesterday," she replies with a toothy grin and Emma sees it now; a man and a woman, holding one hand each of a little girl. The girl wears a blue ribbon in her hair, the man is dressed in mostly black with just one hand, and the woman is wearing a bright red jacket.

Throat suddenly very thick, she can only nod approvingly at the artwork, and takes a couple of deep breaths to regain control.

"How are you today, Claire?" Emma asks after a few beats of silence, thinking it best to treat the girl as an equal. That's what she would've wanted as a kid, after all.

Claire frowns painfully. "The other kids said today that a mummy and daddy won't come for me, and that I'm stupid." Her bottom lip starts trembling, but she closes her eyes a couple of seconds and manages to make it stop just as quickly as it started. _Impressive, kid_, Emma thinks.

"Wait here," she says and gets up. She picks out her phone from her jacket and walks away long enough that Claire won't overhear.

Killian answers on the second ring. "Emma?"

"_Doyoutrusther_?" Emma blurts out so quickly she doesn't even understand it herself.

"Huh?"

"Do you trust her?"

"Who?"

"Claire."

"Wha – aye, I trust her. What are you on about, Swan?"

"I'm taking her home with me."

She hangs up before he has the chance to say anything. Besides, she already knows what his answer would be.

(Claire takes the news with nothing less than the enthusiasm only a child can muster, and cries again when Emma and Killian tells her she gets her own room; she falls asleep on the floor of what is still a study with a smile on her lips.)

(A year later, she accidentally calls Killian 'dad', and seeing the look on his face makes Emma realize has never been more happy in her entire life.)


	9. Day 9 - Spooning

**Day 9. Spooning**

* * *

The first time Emma and Killian spend the night together it is heated and passionate – _frantic_ – and she's sure her skin is burning under his fingertips' exploration of her entire body, quick and sure movements even as his hand is trembling across her bare stomach.

She's not surprised – was sure this was to be expected even; it had to when it came to them – and revels in the look in his eyes as he meets her gaze. What does surprise her, however, is how after – when they're still catching their breath, Emma trying to remember how to swallow – Killian tucks an arm around her waist and plasters his body along hers.

(If she ever had to pick ten things she knew about Killian Jones, that fact that he loves spooning would not have made the list).

Her heart beat picks up because she isn't sure if she's the type of person that likes to spoon or not, seeing as she's never really done it before. He chuckles in her ear, low and very close, and starts moving his hand in circles around her navel, clearly having heard her quickening pulse.

"Sleep," he says, and somehow she drifts off to the soothing gesture of his movements, his breathing, his smell – _him_. When she wakes up the next morning, they're still in the same position and after that, it becomes a thing they do; she quickly learns that some parts of her body has always yearned for this type of intimacy, and she vows to never let herself starve that way again.

(However, it does take some time for her to get used to the idea that_she_, Emma Swan, is the type of person who loves to cuddle more than she does most things in life).

The feeling she gets when he puts his arm around her, head resting somewhere on her neck, feels almost like coming home, a contentment spreading through her body, feeling like she _belongs_.

Some nights, though – when she knows he needs it more than her, his eyes screaming as ghosts from his past erupts – she turns around even before he has the chance to stretch out his arm and curls her own around _his_ waist instead, savoring how she can be the one to get him to close his eyes in a shudder as she takes deep breaths against his shoulder blades.

"Tell me about Liam," she says sometimes, knowing that that is all it takes for him to start talking, her hand resting above his heart. She asks about Baelfire too – to him, it was always Baelfire – and even about Milah on a few occasions when she sees the look on his face (_recognizes it_) as he climbs into bed.

Some nights, he asks her about Graham or Neal, and she talks of the emotions she's never shared with anyone before; the constant ache that she used to have in her chest, the fear always waiting around the next corner, or the love she once held in her heart for them. He asks about her time as an orphan, pressing soft kisses on her back as she recalls her years of abandonment and loneliness, and it's easy to be lulled into sleep even after she has talked about some of the worst days in her life.

"I love you," she whispers for the first time one night, ten months after they got together. There's a short, _terrifying_, pause as he stills behind her before he leans over her to reach her lips.

"I love you, too," he says, and it sounds almost like a prayer, and maybe even the most precious promise she's ever gotten.


	10. Day 10 - Pet names

**Day 10. Pet names**

It comes out accidentally one chilly November evening as they're heading for Granny's. Emma feels relaxed in a way she's always dreamt of but never imagined happening to her, and so it leaves her lips when the last ounce of her wall crumbles; he freezes mid-step to turn and look at her as she slaps a hand over her mouth in horror how she could call him such a name without it entering her mind for even a second.

(Okay, maybe – _just maybe_ – it's one of the names she was toying with and saving for just that special moment when the teasing was right. This was not that moment, and as she actually hears it out loud for the first time she realizes such a moment would never _ever_come up, because it is such a horrific name to call someone).

"Excuse me?" he says, amusement in his voice, and lifts his eyebrow so high up in his forehead Emma almost can't see it. "Did you just call me – ?"

She cringes the same time as he does, and says, "Accident."

They stand there for a moment or two, as if trying to gauge the other's reaction – thankfully it seems as if they are on the same page on how that name should never be allowed to be spoken out loud again.

Emma's just in the middle of a thought about how it is a giant relief nobody was around to hear that atrocity come from her, or she would never hear the end of it, when there's a soft giggle coming from the direction they're heading, and Emma feels like crawling into a gigantic whole and stay there until winter. _Of course_ the one person that would comment on the whole thing has to be the one to hear it as well, Emma thinks with dread as both she and Killian turn to face the source of the mockery.

"_Boo bear_?" Ruby snickers, looking like Christmas has come early. She places her hands on her hips and looks cockier than Emma is comfortable with; it has Emma worried what Ruby might do. "Really?"

Neither Emma nor Killian speaks, and so the silence stretches on for a few moments before Ruby starts laughing for real.

"You guys are the cutest ever," she says with a shake of her head, smile still on her lips before she catches the look on Emma and Killian's faces and rolls her eyes instead. "Oh my God, relax will you? I won't tell anyone that you're in _luuuve_," she adds, pouting her lips unnecessarily much as she drags out the syllable of the word love, and ends with making a few kissing noises.

Emma can't help the way the corner of her own mouth seems to be going up, and suddenly has to fight the urge to dance when it strikes her that Killian didn't protest at the claim that they were in love.

(Neither did she, she realizes with a jolt. She waits for the panic to come as Ruby starts blabbing on about Victor, but it doesn't happen; all she feels is a sudden giddiness).

Lost in her own train of thought, she startles when she feels warm fingers wrapping around her own and looks over to find him smiling at her.

"– And I should really get going, he's probably waiting for me," Ruby finishes just then, and leaves without giving them the chance to say anything.

"Well –" Emma starts, not sure what there is to say.

"Dinner?" Killian suggests, and the name boo bear seems buried somewhere between his gaze and their joining hands.

(Boo bear really isn't brought up again until some years later when Emma suddenly remembers it as they are about to sleep and can't stop laughing. He joins her with his own rumbling laugh, and when their daughter – Claire – comes in to their bedroom, wondering what is so funny, Emma relents and tells her. Claire, five years old, accepts the name as it is without asking any further questions, and starts seizing any and all moments she can to call her father boo bear, and somehow they both love the name).

.

She likes it best when he calls her Swan – eyes always dancing with a smile as he does – because it feels like something private between just the two of them, and she can never keep herself from smiling back.

(When they have been together for a while, and she feels comfortable enough, she starts to give in to the urge to kiss him when he calls her that, and catches his appreciative humming with her own lips).

.

Years and years later, she's the only one that still calls him Hook.

She doesn't do it all the time, and never around their daughter, but it slips out every now and then when they are alone, and she can always tell by his response that he feels the same way about that name as she do about Swan; like a whispered secret passing between them as they cook dinner, or a declaration of passion as they fall asleep, limbs tangled together as the sweat still tingles on their foreheads.

So when she comes home from work some evenings, with Claire taking a nap before dinner in her bedroom, and he sweeps up close to her – wraps his arms tight around her waist – and murmurs, "Welcome home, Swan," and she answers appreciatively "Good to be back,_Hook_", she has never felt more at home in her entire life.


End file.
